


His Due

by Ulan



Series: 100 Writing Prompts [4]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (not meant as a trigger warning but I mean), Banter, Economics, Friendship, Humor (sort of), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 11:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15072347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/pseuds/Ulan
Summary: Tax statements are prepared (mostly by Erestor). Some flirting also occurs (mostly by Glorfindel).(Prompt #56 - "I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.")





	His Due

**Author's Note:**

> This is prompt #56 (“I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes”) from the 100 Writing Prompts list I have in [my Tumblr](https://glorfindel-of-imladris.tumblr.com/post/166830382154/100-writing-prompts).
> 
> I have no idea how this prompt ended up being about taxes, but I do generally enjoy locking Erestor and Glorfindel in a room together. :P

"Glorfindel, are you listening?" 

It was an otherwise ordinary afternoon sometime at the start of winter, and Glorfindel's office was fortunately one of those places easily kept comfortably warm. Given this coupled with the fact that he was with a most favoured company, the golden-haired captain---although honestly bored and uninterested in the topic for that day---was in a relatively good mood. 

He gave his companion an easy smile. “I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

The line, naturally, was met with a scowl. "Glorfindel."

Glorfindel laughed. "One of these days, Erestor, you are going to have to flirt back." 

"I do not _have_ to do anything, my good captain, except pay my taxes and, as it turns out, make sure you also do yours." Erestor stood from where he was seated across Glorfindel, who then watched as the other went around the captain's work desk and rummaged through its drawers. "I cannot even believe that that old joke can be used literally in this situation. Case in point: you are delayed again this year, hence my being here." Erestor sighed and lifted a piece of parchment up to the light; it did not seem to be what he needed, for he scowled at it and began sifting through Glorfindel's files again.

"I thought you were here because you missed me," said Glorfindel with some amusement. It was always entertaining to rile Erestor and watch how he would react.

Erestor, as always, looked unimpressed. He did not even deign to look at Glorfindel. "Our rooms are beside one another. I even just saw you at breakfast and again at luncheon."

"Aye, and it was such a torturous two hours without you. I missed you dearly, and even now my heart goes on breaking as I look at you." 

Erestor's next sigh was deeper and communicated adequately how terribly put upon he was with his colleague. He sank back down on his seat. "Glorfindel, _focus_." 

It was always amusing the way Erestor took in this sort of jokes. Granted, Glorfindel could no longer remember when the habit even began. He remembered taking to Erestor almost immediately upon their meeting, an openness to friendship that Erestor at least seemingly returned (despite what the old counsellor said). It just felt easy, speaking with him and being with him. Friendship had been a given, and Glorfindel found that he preferred no company in Middle-Earth better than Erestor's. 

Then again, also granted: the jokes may or may not have grown to be... half-meant at this point, for Erestor had many admirable qualities and was admittedly passing fair.

"Would you say that I am your best friend by now?" 

A dark eyebrow rose and the expression on Erestor's face communicated what his words, directly, did not. "I am unsure if 'best' would be the right term." He glanced at the scroll he was working on. "Not now, especially."

"Favourite?"

"Not that word either, no."

Glorfindel made as though he did not hear him. He asked wistfully, "How many years have we known one other?" 

In this at least, Erestor peered up at Glorfindel from his study of the files he pulled and gathered in front of him. "Who could count? It has been so many years---centuries, even. Has it not?" 

The truth was Glorfindel knew exactly how long, to the day, since he had met this remarkable Elf, but this information he kept to himself. "I think it is nice what we have." 

"What you have, you mean, because mostly it is you who uses me for silly things like reviewing your personal cases, representing you in civil hearings, _and_ preparing your financial documents."

"It is primarily that you are charming company, whatever people say"---Erestor's bland stare was more than satisfying---"but yes, all those are wonderful secondary benefits. You are very good with so many things, whereas I can only hold a sword. Well, and a bow. And, you know, a few other things... most weapons, come to think of it."

His companion rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, you are Middle-Earth's greatest and unparalleled weapons master. Evil ones cower in your presence, etcetera. Now if only you were as useful to the economy as you are in the battlefield."

"Peace is good for the economy."

Erestor sighed and shook his head.

"The taxation system has also changed significantly since the First Age," continued Glorfindel as he watched Erestor work on the scrolls on the desk. "And you know Valinor has no such things. I am not very good with gold and the like to begin with, nor do I particularly like thinking about them."

"Spoken like a true child of wealth," said Erestor with some disgust, his quill nearly stabbing Glorfindel's handsome mahogany desk. He did, at least, lean over the cluttered space to explain. "Imladris, I realise, does not come with personal assistants for its lords, but no matter, as that did not seem to deter you from finding one in me. As for who came up with the new system, it was Gil-galad, of course, and Imladris merely followed suit. The High King, unlike you, has a head for developing and maintaining thriving economies, and Lindon up to Eregion would have flourished even longer had it not been for that whole Annatar debacle." 

The chief counsellor made a vague gesture with his hand. "In any case, Glorfindel, you are single and are not part of any group that would be eligible for lower taxes. Your papers are as straightforward as they can ever be. Why you still refuse to learn this is beyond me."

"Yes, well." The captain frowned at everything littering his desk. "There are still those... pre-tax deductions that you do, and I cannot always keep track of when I earn things." 

"You do have a bad habit of claiming even your wages late. Surviving on nothing but admirers' gifts alone, are we?" 

Instead of growing embarrassed by this jibe, Glorfindel merely grinned. "Jealous?"

The huff he received in return was wholly predictable. "Hardly."

"Not that there are many of those these days, you might be relieved to know." A sunkissed hand reached across the table, but was promptly slapped away. 

Erestor huffed, as far from being offended, Glorfindel merely laughed at the physical rebuke. "While relief has nothing to do with it, perhaps I am curious. Where are your fans, oh great one? Has our beloved captain finally lost his charm?" 

Glorfindel's smiled sweetly. "Oh, nay. I tell them that my darling the chief counsellor grows jealous easily, and might charge them hidden penalties in retaliation."

Said chief counsellor glared from across the table. "You did not tell them that." 

"I did, actually, and quite happily. It was all getting inconvenient."

This time, Erestor did throw the quill down on the desk. "I had wondered why those blasted rumours won't die. Apparently one party involved instigates them."

"Please, they have been talking about us for so long. You know what they say, right? If you can't beat them..."

"Beat them harder?"

"No, I... no, Erestor, that is not how you fight. Honestly, and you dare call me bull-headed." 

The counsellor's stern expression finally broke as Erestor chuckled. "It has worked for me once or twice before." He looked back down at the scroll he was working on, and with a final few strokes of his quill, he declared, "Here, it is done---with very little input from you, I might add. Just pay the amount at the bottom of the page, please." 

Glorfindel grinned as he watched Erestor scan the document he just prepared, no doubt checking it as though he had not been meticulously doing so as he worked. "My thanks, Erestor, as always. Might I know what you would like as recompense?" 

"Dinner would be fine."

A golden eyebrow rose, albeit pleased, at the quick response. "The usual place?" 

Erestor smiled, and sometimes those things came unexpectedly still that Glorfindel would find himself sitting speechless. He wanted to kick himself after such times. 

"They do know how to serve a proper goose," said Erestor, oblivious. "Plus, I like their wine."

"Of course," said the captain, gaining back his bearings and grinning in return. "It is a date, then." 

"It is not a date."

"Right. It is not a date just as much as the other evenings were not dates."

"They were not."

The counsellor sighed, which of course only had Glorfindel laughing. "Of course they were not." 

Erestor rolled his eyes, but he did let the potential argument go, clearly not in the mood for Glorfindel's usual nonsense. An exchange like that could go on for as long as Erestor clung to the bait after all, for Glorfindel was nothing if not patient (stubborn) when it came to such things. 

Glorfindel stood when Erestor did so, the counsellor relinguishing his place behind Glorfindel's work desk, which he had perused for a good part of the afternoon. Without any more words or glances exchanged, they moved in synchrony, switching places and going around the wide desk filled now with receipts and the scroll containing details of the taxes Glorfindel owed. Glorfindel did not at all look forward to reviewing it, but that trail of thought was cut short by a hand pulling suddenly on his wrist. 

"Here."

Blue eyes widened marginally as deft fingers came up just under Glorfindel's chin and went to the small clasps hidden under the captain's tunic, keeping it closed. Instinctively, Glorfindel lifted his chin out of the way when those fingers seemed to... undo the clasps. 

"I mean, Erestor..." Glorfindel began as cool air wafted against his progressively exposed chest. "I do not really mind, but seeing as you just denied that we were even dating, the least you can do is buy me a drink first."

The glare he received and the click of a tongue that followed only drew the grin back on Glorfindel's face. Erestor frowned back down on the vicinity of Glorfindel's collarbone, where his fingers were. "Oh, be quiet. Your clasps were on wrong and it has been bothering me this whole time. Really, Glorfindel, an Elf of your age..." 

Oh, but it was wonderful, standing with Erestor this close. It was close enough certainly for Glorfindel to smell the perfume on Erestor's hair, subtle and barely there but familiar by now after all these years, enough for warmth to settle at their reminder. Even their height difference was good; if Glorfindel came close enough, it would just be right to place a loving kiss on Erestor's forehead, aligned as it was with his lips. If Erestor tipped his head just slightly, it would position that mouth with the sharp tongue perfectly to kiss. 

Glorfindel's lips twitched at the thought. Yet it was a stark reminder of things he still could not do. Erestor might tell all and sundry that Glorfindel's gall had him doing what he wished to the point of coercing the chief counsellor to work for his benefit, but some things... well, some things were yet beyond reach.

He looked up just as Erestor finished fixing his clothes, those cool hands even smoothing down cloth and fixing up a collar. Erestor's thumb tickled at Glorfindel's neck where it slid between silk and skin.

Glorfindel, of course, could not help himself. "Thank you, dear," he said, softly and with a smile. 

Green eyes shot back up to him, strict and unforgiving. Erestor let the endearment slide. "You have by sundown. Pay your due or I _will_ slap you with an actual penalty."

"Eru forbid."

"I mean it, Glorfindel."

It all just made Glorfindel chuckle, though. "Aye, my darling." 

Erestor sighed as he stepped back. He threw Glorfindel yet another pointed stare before turning sharply and striding out of the room to do whatever it was that chief counsellors did with a few hours still left to their day, once they were done managing their fellow high officials and ensuring they empty their pockets for Imladris. 

Glorfindel followed that dark figure until it disappeared behind his office door, before turning his attention down to the mess it left behind. Trust the guy to unearth every piece of parchment with a currency sign in Glorfindel's office, but leave them scattered once he got what he wanted. 

_'I have just calculated your debts for you, Glorfindel. There is only so much of your mess I have the motivation to fix.'_

Valar, the fact that Glorfindel could even hear those words in that voice so vividly...

He sat down and stared at the scroll with the elegant script on his desk. He supposed he could always learn it, spare Erestor some of that headache. They did this every time, perhaps even often enough that Glorfindel might find that he already knew how to do them himself at this point. It was just too good to have Erestor do it for him though, and it allowed him to watch the other scour his files and open his drawers for receipts and things as though it was his own room, as familiar to him as any of his workplaces and private spaces. 

Really, some days Glorfindel did not know what they were. They had been friends for years, closer even now that Glorfindel began living in Imladris. They sat together when they can and spent enough time together to feed the valley's gossip mill so that it never ran out. Erestor did Glorfindel's taxes, scolded him but also did things like grooming him when his clothes were askew. Glorfindel left sweets and flowers on Erestor's office and place in the dining hall, and while Erestor never returned the favour, he never refused the gifts either.

Glorfindel heaved a great sigh and let his head fall with a 'thud' on his desk, just right were Erestor affixed his signature in his neat penmanship. Not dating indeed. 

Not yet anyway.


End file.
